The struggle ended at the couch. She whined and flailed as I dragged her across the apartment by her arm, but when I sat down and pulled her onto them lap she was suddenly still and quite.
My hand naturally went to her hair. No matter how she laid, her posture could always be improved. I moved under her and guided her by the hair until she was in the ideal position. Her waist directly over my lap, her chest and arms leaning on the couch cushion next to me, and her knees resting on the other side of me. This pushed her ass high enough for me to get a good angle and made sure that as much of our bodies were touching as possible.
In that position, with my hand in her hair, I was in control of her body, but I was also hyper aware of it. I could feel every move she made, pressing against me or shifting away from me.
She looked back at me over her shoulder, her hair covering most of her face, but her eyes still visible as she narrowed them at me and pouted. Her attitude only made me smile. I pulled her head back into position by her hair, hard enough that she said “ouch!”